


Death isn't all that great

by OracleOfTheEnd



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OracleOfTheEnd/pseuds/OracleOfTheEnd
Summary: Quentin tries his hand at being dead. He decides it's not for him.





	Death isn't all that great

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen the last episode, and stopped watching 4x12 after Quentin and Alice got back together. So there may be inaccuracies. But that won't stop me from fixing what those writers broke :)

Death was't quite as nice as Penny made it out to be. Quentin got that quickly. One could say right from the start. From the moment he was led away from the fire his friends had gathered around and he couldn't tear his gaze away from Eliot. They way his eyes glistened with unshed tears, or the way he gripped his cane like a lifeline. But there wasn't anything he could do. He was dead, and they were not. Eliot was not. Which was what he wanted. Or so he thought. Because ideally, so would he be. But that was over.

Penny gives him his metro card and Quentin stares at it like he had forgotten how to read.

"They will be alright?", he asks, still trying to make out the words on the ticket. Maybe it was in some ancient language he wasn't supposed to understand. Or it was all gibberish. But it was better to concentrate on something meaningless.

"Sure.", Penny says, a little too late. "I guess. I don't make a habit out of reading through their books. It's too-", he breaks off and Quentin looks up at him. This Penny, their Penny, and him have never really gotten along, but in this instant, they get each other. They are not part of this life anymore and pretending otherwise would be torture.

Quentin shrugs.

"All right. I guess I'll be off. You can visit, if you want.", he doesn't know why he says the latter part. And Penny looks horrified at the prospect for a minute, before a little smile comes to his lips.

"Don't count on it, nerd."

And then he leaves him. And why wouldn't he? It's not like Quentin has anywhere else to go. So he enters the train, which starts moving almost as soon as he finds his seat. Or any seat, really.

He doesn't know how long the train takes to get him to his destination, or what that is precisely. He just knows that he is unhappy as hell. So much for all his troubles going away. It's unfair really. All his life he lived with his brain telling him he wasn't good enough, that he was stupid, childish for liking the things he did. And now he was supposed to exists for all eternity like this? He thinks back to his friends again. Their tears, the things they threw into the flames. He thinks of the peach, shriveling and blackening. He thinks of Eliot and Alice holding hands, united in their loss and in this second he wants nothing more than to escape and find his way back to them.

But almost like it reads his mind, the train comes to a stop. The door opposite of him opens.

"Hello, curly Q.", he voice says and Quentin is out of his seat and into the station before he knows what he is doing. All this time he somehow forgot how much he missed his father. His unconditional support, his quiet acceptance of everything he did.

And now he is here, right in front of him. Smiling and looking better than he has done in a long time. But there is sadness there, too, in his eyes and Quentin understands it. The pain of a child that died too soon. But Quentin's son never lived, and he isn't sure if that is better or worse. He pushes the thought of Eliot down, who is alone now, having lost two children and now him.

_But he didn't want you_ , part of him thinks and he finally makes his way into his father's arms, shakes his head. He knows those thoughts are irrational. Even if Eliot didn't want him, he was still his friend, and of course he would grieve. He had already seen the beginning at the campfire.

He belatedly realizes his father is talking to him, leading him somewhere.

"Where are we going?", he asks, and isn't really interested in the answer.

As it turns out, he doesn't have to wait that long to find out. It's his father's house, what would have been his. Or at least heaven's version of it. He sees model planes everywhere, some half assembled and wonders if some of them are the same ones that he has smashed with the Monster. He shakes his head. Thinking about the Monster leads right back to Eliot.

"Don't worry about that. It's fine.", his father says and picks one plane up, as if he could read his mind. "I get it. You had to blow off some steam."

"You saw?", he asks, and wonders what else his father saw.

"You're my son.", is all his father says and leaves him to his own thoughts, without asking any question, without another word. He assumes he doesn't have to ask anything, he saw it all. Quentin sinks down onto the couch and puts his head into his hands.

~~~~~~~

Heaven is less paradise and more an thinly concealed torture chamber. That is at least the conclusion he has come to in the time he'd spent there. Which is not even that long, as far as he can tell. In its attempt to make his not-life as comfortable as possible, the surroundings change, whenever he thinks about something too long.

One time he sat at his father's kitchen table, thinking about simpler times, when he used to play king and queen with Julia, and he had spent the better part of that day as his seven-year-old self, lying under a table, or building swords out of cardboard.

He understands the purpose of it, but it is suffocating in a way. He can't think freely. More than one time had turned around almost stumbled over a piece of mosaic, lying in the green fillorian grass like a slap in the face. When he lifts his eyes, there is always the cottage, the sounds of laughter, two people, and plates clattering. More than once he has made an attempt at entering, but has always stopped at the door. Because he knows the Teddy and Eliot inside aren't real. Well, maybe Teddy is, but Eliot isn't dead. And it would be agony to stare at his face and know that it isn't him. Not again.

So he pushes the thoughts of Eliot down until they are only a throbbing wound. But it doesn't get easier.

Thinking about Alice is no better. Heaven might have done nothing for his depression, but it still gave him some perspective on his doings. How he didn't really love her anymore, or want her back. He knows that now. That he only tried again, because he was desperate for something, love, someone to hold onto. No wonder, surrounded by Penny and Julia and Josh and Margo. And he was alone, the person he wanted to love just out of reach. And even then he wouldn't have given Quentin what he wanted. And Alice was easy, willing. He feels ashamed now. He had a lifetime of love to get over her, but she hadn't had the same courtesy extended to her. So he couldn't bear thinking about her either.

The only one that was save, was Julia, but even then you could only talk with her so long until you realized she was only saying what you wanted to hear.

Eventually he gives up all together and spends his days watching TV with his dad, or building models without any enthusiasm.

Sometimes he wonders if he is losing his mind. If one day he won't be able to tell what is real from what is fake. He throws his father a look and wonders if he is really here, our just some thought-up memory.

And then one day he hears the front door opening, something that has never happened before.

"Man, this is the saddest show ever.", Penny says and steps into the room. Quentin almost drops the model he was working on in his attempt to get to Penny, before he decides he is not interested in the show.

"Are you really here?", is the first thing out of his mouth. Penny gives him a smile, somewhere between sad and condescending, and that is enough for him.

"Sorry, it's just that everything here-"

"Just wants to kiss your ass until you're all better? Yeah, I know. You're gonna get used to it. And if you don't just think them away and enjoy the silence, it's what I would do.", the last part doesn't sound convincing to Quentin at all, but he chooses not to say anything. Instead he concentrates and tries not to think of anything. When he turns around, his father is gone, the glue still drying on the last model. He can feel his shoulders sinking.

"Did you really think he was here? Most people don't share a heaven. And when they do, it's not with their kids.", Penny states and he sounds so emotionless like he was reading from a manual. Sometimes it is hard to remember that Penny, too, died and left someone he loved on earth.

"I need a favour.", he says and turns back around to face Penny, who doesn't look surprised the least. He just raises an eyebrow.

"I want to see how they are doing."

"Why? I can tell you from personal experience, it's not going to help. It only gets worse from here on out."

Quentin says nothing, just stares at Penny until he sighs.

"Fine, five minutes, and if you tell anyone, you're-"

"Dead?"

"Yes."

~~~~~~~~~

When Quentin opens his eyes again, he is on a cemetery. It is a gloomy day, not really raining but waiting to. There is a group of people standing around an open grave and it takes him a second to recognize them. It's his friends, or what is left of him, and his mother with her new boyfriend. Quentin realizes he doesn't even know his name. Before he can stop himself he comes closer. Penny doesn't stop him, just rolls his eyes.

He looks at his mother first. Her eyes are dry and she is not really staring at the grave in front of her, just somewhere up ahead, like someone waiting for something unpleasant to pass. Quentin doesn't pretend that it doesn't hurt. Then again, he has long given up on hoping to be seen as something else that an unpleasant reminder from a failed marriage. Someone who breaks everything around him. Probably even his mother's carefully planned schedule. His mother turns around and looks at Alice, her cheeks wet and her eyes puffy.

"You were his girlfriend, right?", she asks and Quentin guesses that his mother didn't even bother talking to the people who came to her son's funeral. Alice nods, but says nothing and it takes Quentin an indignant moment to realize that she is right. She was his girlfriend right until the end.

"Quentin told me so much about you.", his mother continues and Quentin wants to scream. He hasn't mentioned Alice to his mother even once. Mostly because she wouldn't care. It was his father who listened to everything, from Alice to his lifetime spent with Eliot.

He turns around and searches for the very person he has been trying to ignore. Eliot stand off a while, with Margo at his side. He is still leaning on his cane, so Quentin assumes not too much time has passed. And he is weeping. Margo's arm is around him, but even she is not enough to quell the tears that keep coming back. Eliot puts his head on her shoulder just as Quentin's mother looks in his direction. If she wonders why he is crying harder than Quentin's girlfriend, she says nothing.

But Quentin pays her no mind. He is already halfway to Eliot, his arms outstretched, when a hand grips him by the shoulder.

"You can't help him.", Penny says, endlessly soft, and his own eyes flicker to Kady, who stands in between Julia and Josh.

"But-", Quentin begins, his eyes glued to Eliot. He shakes Penny off, takes another step.

"Hey, El, I'm here.", he says and tries to reach for him, only for his hand to pass right through.

 

It's then when Penny grabs him again and he finds himself back at his father's house. He whirls around.

"Bring me back.", he demands and his own voice is so rough that it sounds like he was the one crying.

Penny gives him a look he can't define.

"You can't help him.", he repeats and turns around without another word. Quentin doesn't try to stop him. He crumbles to the floor in a heap of despair. Finally the tears come and the ugly sobs, too.

 

He doesn't bounce back from the experience lightly. Now that he knows his father wasn't real, the house is deserted. He's not sure what to do with himself. There are books never-ending to find, he only has to wish for them, but the only thing he wishes for is Eliot. Which is exactly what he gets. Eliot is here, with him, looking at him with his big hazel eyes. Concerned. For him. Quentin cannot stand it. At least this fake Eliot doesn't try to talk to him, he just sits with him, stares, waits to comfort him. But that isn't what he needs.

He locks himself into his room, just so the specter won't follow him and he stays there until a knock on his door rips him out of his thoughts.

"You in there?", Penny asks from the other side of the door. Quentin gets up slowly, like he is drained of energy. He fumbles with the lock for a seconds before the door opens and Penny steps in.

He is still wearing the same grey suit. Or maybe he has a hundred of them. Quentin laughs. What a silly thing to think about.

"Did you lose it now? I just came to check up-"

"You have to do me a favour.", Quentin interrupts him and Penny gives him that look again.

"This isn't good for you.", he says, but he doesn't sound like he is going to fight Quentin on this. Smart decision.

"Nothing is good for me. I'm dead. What does it matter?"

Penny sighs.

"Who do you want to see?", he asks, but Quentin is sure he knows the answer already. He wonders how much of Quentin's book he had read, if he knows about his other life.

"Just for a minute.", he says instead, and before he can add anything else, they're gone.

~~~~~~~~~

For a second he thinks it was all a bad dream, that he never left the psychiatric clinic. That none of the things he experienced in the last years really happened. Then he takes a look around and sees first Penny, then Eliot and Margo.

The latter two are sitting in a circle with a least 15 other people. A woman is standing and talking about something with tears streaming down her face. But Quentin doesn't pay attention to her. He is fixated on Eliot.

He looks terrible. The cane is gone, so Quentin assumes at least a few weeks have passed since the funeral, but other than that, it's much worse. If he didn't know any better, he would think the monster is back. Nothing about the clothes, or the hair, really. That looks as perfect as always, Eliot's armour. But there are dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks look decidedly more hollow than he has ever seen them. His eyes are still watery, he doesn't really seem to listen to what the woman in the middle has to say. He shifts and Quentin sees how much weight he must have lost. His first instinct is to go to him and comfort him, but he doesn't. He can't and Penny would only make him leave again.

The woman in the middle sits down and another gets up.

"Thank you, Miranda. That was very brave of you. How about someone else tell us about their loss.", her eyes wander to Eliot and he seems to shrink into himself. But it is no use. The counselor seems set on him anyways. He straightens back up when she calls his name, only to stare at her, like she woke him from a bad dream.

"I-", he begins, but breaks off almost immediately.

"It's okay, El.", Margo says, and pats his arm. Her eyes are full of concern, a look so strange on her, that Quentin forgets about Eliot for a second.

The whole group stares at him now, the counselor smiles encouragingly. Quentin sees his eyes moving from one person to the next. He knows this all too well from himself. The beginning of a panic attack.

"I can't do that.", Eliot says into the silence, and leaves the room with his chair clattering to the ground behind him. Margo follows without a word to anyone else, and so does Quentin.

He finds them not too far into the hallway behind the room. Eliot is sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, his breath erratic. Quentin has never seen him look so lost, so small.

"It's okay.", Margo repeats and puts one of her hands on his knee.

"It's not. This is bullshit.", Eliot whispers and Quentin is sure this whole thing wasn't his idea.

"And why? You should at least give it a try, maybe it helps.", Margo says and Quentin can see she is trying not to be annoyed. He gets it. He too is angry that he can do nothing to help.

"What would you have me say? That I lost someone I spent 50 years with? But hey, we weren't even dating?", Eliot laughs, a little hysterically and burrows his face into his knees. Quentin looks at Margo, who doesn't seem the least bit surprised. He should have known that Eliot would have told her, she is his best friend after all. Quentin never told anyone, not even Julia. He carried his pain alone and it helped destroy him.

"That's not important.", Margo says.

"They would all think I lost it. And maybe they wouldn't even be wrong."

One of his hands sneak into the pocket of his jacket and Quentin fears the reappearance of his flask but is instead greeted with a bottle of pills.

"Those do nothing, by the way.", Eliot says, but takes one nevertheless. Margo raises a brow.

"You make it sound like that is my fault. You should talk to the doctor, maybe you have to take more."

"Maybe I have to take a lot more.", Eliot says and puts the bottle back into his pocket. Quentin thinks about the Monster and hopes that Margo will keep an eye on Eliot.

"You don't mean that.", Margo says and now she looks like she might cry, too. Quentin feels for her. She had been like him. Missing Eliot the whole time.

Eliot looks up at her and his expression softens.

"Of course not, Bambi. Just give me some time.", he says and even manages a small smile that would have convinced everyone that didn't know him for as long as Quentin does.

Penny takes this moment to come up next to him and bring them both back.

Quentin says nothing to him, just turns around and takes a few steps into the room.

"I told you it would be shit from here on out.", Penny says, but there is no bite behind his words. "He still has Margo."

Quentin nods. Penny is right. As long as Margo is there, Eliot would be fine. She is his other soul mate, after all.

~~~~~~

Quentin did not expect Penny to come back after this. He had assumed that the other thought he learned his lesson, but after a few undefined time periods, he was back.

"Is there a way to keep time here?", he voices his thoughts and Penny gives him a weird look.

"Why would the dead need that?", he says and flops down on the couch. "You need new furniture."

Quentin ignores him. He told himself that Eliot would be fine, but that doesn't make wanting to see him any less urgent.

"I need a favour.", he says and Penny gives him a wry smile.

"Why I almost think those visits aren't about us catching up."

"No, they're not. I know why I'm doing this, but why are you? I thought you said this isn't good for me."

"It isn't, but that doesn't mean I don't get it. Do you think I never see how Kady is doing? And she's doing amazing, isn't that great?", he smiles at Quentin, a real smile, one of those that were reserved for Kady and Quentin finds himself smiling back.

"Shall we then, before we start hugging?", Penny asks, and this time he doesn't wait for an answer.

~~~~~~

Quentin finds himself next to Margo in front of a locked door.

"El! Open up. You promised me!", she shouts and the panic in her voice makes Quentin's heart beat faster. Which would be a funny detail if the situation wasn't so decidedly not funny.

There is no answer from the other side.

"Eliot!", Margo says again and hammers her fists against the door.

"Go away, Margo, I'm fine.", Eliot's voice is muffled and Quentin isn't sure if it's the door or something else.

"You're not. I- ah, fuck. What am I even doing?"

Margo steps back from the door and prepares a spell Quentin is sure will rip the door right into shreds. Only it doesn't. It bounces off harmlessly and there is a short flash in which the counter spells on the door can be seen. An impressive display. It's easy to forget what an amazing magician Eliot is when he wants to be.

Margo tries her spell again, but the result is the same. She tries kicking the door in next.

"Eliot! Do you think Quentin would want this?"

There is movement behind the door and then it opens, just a fraction.

"He wouldn't want to be dead, either.", Eliot says, his too pale face appearing in the crack between the door and the wall. The bags under his eyes have darkened and what Quentin can see from his shirt hasn't been ironed in a while.

"He would want you to be dead even less.", Margo says and she doesn't quite manage to stay calm. She has seen them same thing Quentin has seen. The Belt around Eliot's arm, the fresh injection marks. Still she manages not to panic, not the way Quentin does when Eliot vanishes from the door, a pained noise escaping from his lips as he collapses on the floor.

Margo rushes into the room as Quentin turns toward Penny.

"We have to help him!", he says, but Penny shakes his head.

"We can't. We're dead. Margo has it."

"She clearly doesn't! Look what happened. I have to get to him!"

Penny shakes his head and puts them pack into Quentin's heaven. Quentin runs around frantically, until he finally finds Penny.

"Bring me back!", he screams, and when Penny shakes his head again, he lunges at him. The result of how their last fight ended is nothing but a faint memory in his head, but it doesn't matter anyhow. Penny doesn't put up a fight. He lets Quentin punch and kick him until he breaks down into a crying mess and then he even puts an arm around him and takes him into an awkward embrace.

~~~~

Quentin doesn't know when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up, Penny is gone and he is on the couch. He wipes the tears away and stands up.

The noise Eliot made when he collaped plays in his head on repeat and he makes a decision. He can't stay here.

He gets up and storms to the front door, half expecting it to be locked. It isn't. He wonders if anyone ever tries to leave. When he gets out of the house and steps into the hallway behind, he gets why no one would bother. Everything looks identical, save for the name's on the doors.

Quentin turns around and looks at the one he just came through. _Quentin Coldwater & Eliot Waugh_. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time. People rarely share a heaven, is what Penny hat said and here he was, one of the lucky few.

He gives the door one last look, touches Eliot's name with his hand, then he makes his way through the hallway. He can't see a beginning and he can't see an end. He gazes at the doors he passes and thinks that he must be going in the right direction. Good thing that his last name wasn't xylophone or something else that would take him a while.

He doesn't know how long he wanders but finally he sees a corner in the distance. Before he knows it he starts to jog. This has to be it. The end of the hallway. It comes closer and closer, but as soon as he rounds it he finds himself back in his father's living room.

He stares at it for a long minute, before he shakes his head and steps out of his little piece of hell. The result is the same this time. And the ten next times.

But Quentin has an advantage. He doesn't need to sleep (even though it helps pass the time) and he doesn't need to eat. So he can just try and try and try again.

Sometimes he goes in the other direction, but it's all the same, a corner and his house again. He wants to cry in frustration, but he does not. He thinks about Eliot and how sad and thin he has become.

He doesn't know how long he has walked the same hallway without any changes, so it catches him off guard when one day, there is a change. The corner comes up again, but this time, he lands somewhere else.

An office, all in black, that reminds Quentin of something from the Victorian era. A large chandelier hangs on the ceiling and bathes the room in eerie green light that seems a little cliché to Quentin.

A man sits at the desk, dark-skinned and handsome. He has a look on his face that reminds Quentin of a parent that is both disappointed and not surprised.

"So, you're my little troublemaker.", the man says and gives him a smile that is everything but amused. Quentin steels himself. If he had to guess, he would say he finally got the big bosses attention.

"I guess so.", he says and is surprised how strong his voice sounds. That it doesn't betray how tired he really is.

The man gets up.

"So, you run around the halls all day. Not that it bothers me much, you will never get anywhere, but it bothers the ones responsible for security."

Quentin crosses his arms.

"Oops.", he finally says and makes sure not to look sorry in the least.

"What is it you want?", the man asks. "A bigger piece of my domain? They're standard size, I'm afraid."

"I want to leave.", Quentin says.

"They all do. So long they still have loved ones alive. It will pass."

"I don't want it to pass. I want back, now."

The man raises an eyebrow.

"Do you have any idea who I am?"

Quentin takes a deep breath, remembers how he felt facing the Monster, and takes a step towards the man, gets right up in his face.

"I know who you are. But do you know who I am? I killed Ember. I am the one you have to thank for getting rid of the Monster and his sister who killed your wife."

The man opens his mouth, but Quentin isn't done.

"I saved you, while you where all too frightened to come out of your hidey holes. I think I deserve some kind of reward. Also, I'm persistent. And I'm long past being afraid of gods. The hallway isn't going anywhere? I don't care. I'm going to keep trying. Until whoever is responsible for security begs you to throw me out."

He breathes hard, but doesn't step away from the man, doesn't even blink.

For a long minute nothing happens, then the man finally sighs.

"You sure know how to get your point across.", the man, Hades, Quentin thinks, says.

"And you are right. We do owe you. Me most of all. And while it does not bring my wife back I- understand where you are coming from. I would tell you the same thing I told your friend: Get in line and behave, but somehow I don't think that will work with you."

He steps back from Quentin and takes a long look at him.

"Fine. I will give you your chance. But this is the last one. One more death and you will stay here. We had you here like what, 30 times?"

"40.", Quentin supplies and tries not to break into a grin. Or worse, hug the god in front of him. Who seems to have had about enough of him. He comes back to him and touches him with one long finger, right in the middle of the forehead.

~~~~~~

The next time Quentin opens his eyes, he is in front of a hospital. He doesn't even have to guess why Hades dropped him here. He takes a moment to breath New York's very special and not all that pleasant smell in, before he carefully makes his way inside.

He steps up to the reception and tells the lady there Eliot's name.

"You family?", she asks.

"His boyfriend.", Quentin says without missing a beat. He will tell every lie necessary to get to Eliot.

He tries not to look to stricken when the woman directs him to the psychiatric ward. Because really, that was to be expected. That doesn't make it any easier though.

Neither is standing in front of Eliot's door. Seeing his name there again, the thinks of the last door he read it on. A much nicer door that would be preferable if it didn't mean both of them dying. Again.

~~~~~

He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. Eliot is alone in his room and the first thing Quentin sees is that both his arms are tied to the bed. There are marks from too-rough fingernails there and Quentin has to look away for a moment. This is all too familiar for him, but he never thought that he would have to see it with Eliot. Finding him drunk in a corner somewhere would have been easier.

He gets closer to the bed, sees the needle marks in the crook of Eliot's arm, his cheekbones standing out. He is sure if he would pull up his shirt he could count his ribs.

Quentin stretches his hand out to touch Eliot's face, for the first time in he doesn't even know how long, but before he can, Eliot stirs and wakes. He turns his head for a minute, as if he didn't know where he was, then his eyes fall on Quentin. On any other day Quentin would love how big and expressive they always are but now they are just tired and shocked, like their owner had seen a ghost. And technically, he had.

"Hey.", Quentin says and smiles, like he hopes that Eliot will appreciate his standard conversation starter. He doesn't. He doesn't even acknowledge that Quentin has said anything. Just keeps staring at him.

Quentin sits down at the chair that someone, probably Margo, has left there and then he finally touches Eliot. His thumb caresses the cheekbone that sticks out so horribly and it's both for his and Eliot's benefit.

He chokes down a sob at the same time Eliot whispers "How?"

Quentin shrugs.

"I'm stubborn and I was angry."

Eliot shakes his head.

"I saw what you did.", Quentin amends, finally discarding his lighthearted attempt. "I needed to get to you, so I did."

"Are you going to stay?"

"I plan to."

Eliot stares at him for a long time.

"I'm sorry.", he finally says.

"You don't have to be, not for this."

"I'm not."

Quentin stares at him, confused. His hand shoots out to touch Eliot again, first his cheek then his hair. It's like now that he's started, he cannot stop. All these weeks leading up to their memories getting wiped and then the ordeal with the Monster. Always there, always out of reach.

Eliot doesn't seem to mind, he leans into the touch.

"I'm sorry for what I said after we got back.", he manages and Quentin feels himself tense. It's not his favourite memory and he would rather not drag it up, not now. He is about to say as much, but Eliot keeps talking.

"I was afraid, afraid you wouldn't want me. It wasn't about me, you were all I-", he coughs. "all I wanted. But then you went and married the first girl you saw. And I thought you were going to do the same thing again. And why not? Why would you pick me when you could have Alice, or anyone else?"

There are tears in the corners of his eyes and Quentin wipes them away before he knows what he's doing.

"And then the Monster happened, and I wanted to tell you, to be brave, to take the risk, but I never got to."

Suddenly it all made sense. The peach. The grief counseling. Quentin had suspected, but his brain had always been very adamant about telling him not to thrust himself and his feelings.

Quentin doesn't know what to say to the things Eliot had just told him. He should be happy, and he is, but he is also angry, so he says the first thing that comes to his mind.  


"You're a fool, El."

That actually gets a weak chuckle out of Eliot, a real one, and for a moment Quentin forgets how to breathe. He hasn't heard that sound in so long, and he already wants more.

"What is there not to want? You're smart, beautiful and so, so kind. And brave. And-"

"I get it, I'm perfect."

"If only you would really mean that."

"But I'm also a fool."

"Yes."

Eliot doesn't say anything after that. He closes his eyes, obviously still on some kind of medication, put opens them frantically a second later. Quentin grabs his hand and squeezes it.

"I'm here."

"Are you really? It wouldn't be the first time I made you up.", he smiles at him, so unbearably sad that Quentin almost starts crying. Instead he leans forward.

"Want me to tell you something only I know?"

"Isn't that a bit cliché?"

"Maybe?"

Eliot sighs, long suffering, and it almost sounds like his old self. But Quentin knows it's all a show. 50 years and there were still so many barriers to break down. And now he would have the chance.

"Fine.", Eliot allows.

"There are little heavens for everyone, you know. Some people get to share, if they are really meant to be. Do you know what the sign on my door said?"

Eliot stares at him wide-eyed, like a little kid on Christmas morning, and smiles the brightest smile when Quentin finally tells him.

He hopes it's enough to convince Eliot of his feelings. And if not, he had a pretty heroic tale of facing down yet another god up his sleeve.

He looks down and sees that Eliot had fallen back asleep. They weren't okay now, might not be for a long while, but he had a feeling they were on the right track.

 


End file.
